Bloodstream 1
by days-of-you
Summary: Clexa Zombie AU! Clarke and Lexa have been neighbors their whole lives and never really liked one another. Or, they liked each other too much and never understood each other. What happens when an infectious disease spreads rapidly around the world turning people into flesh eating dead, and Lexa and Clarke are forced to survive together. Love, fluff, survival and eventual smut.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Carbonized Lungs

The wails of the sirens woke her from a stubborn sleep and begrudgingly shoved her out of the warm bed she's had since she was ten. Clarke rubbed at her temple and pulled the turquoise curtains to the side where her eyes scanned the expanse of her neighborhood. It was usually quiet at dawn. But the warning siren blared and made the air vibrate. In the distance thick black smoke met with the lilac sky, and people stepped onto their lawns in robes and pajamas trying to figure out what the problem was. Clarke knew it wasn't an earthquake, nor was it some sort of storm. The sky was crisp and the world was at it's calmest for the very last time.

Clarke walked through the halls, suddenly very awake as the dull screaming from outside fought its way through the walls of the house. The earth seemed to shatter, and the pictures on the walls of family didn't register to Clarke any sentimental value in that moment. Just the need to find the phone and call her mother. She could hear Abby's voice in her head clearly from the last conversation they had, " _South America is so nice this time of year. Me and Marcus never got our honeymoon. We'll be back before you know it. Spend some time with Wells or your other two loud friends."_

Clarke never really appreciated Marcus any higher than the usual politeness she possessed so the air could be only a little less thicker. He wasn't a bad man. Far from it, actually. She just could never find it in herself to ever let him in. She wasn't angry at Abby for moving on. Clarke figured it would happen eventually. It irked her that Abby still hadn't changed the blue sheets her father had slept on. It made her heart ache that she had worn her old wedding ring until Marcus had proposed to her and gave her a new one to wear. Clarke keeps that wedding ring around her neck where it hides just under her shirt. She also kept the watch her father got her when she was younger after having asked him the time way once too many when she was up at night working on her homework sat beside him in the living room until one or two in the morning. He had always sat with her until she had crashed out from exhaustion. He would then turn the tv off, set her work and books on the end table, set the house alarm, then scoop her up in his arms and carry her up to bed. When she started to get a little too big to carry, he handed her a box with a silver watch and said, "Now you can just lift your wrist and be at time's kiss." The quote had always made her laugh, but she realized that he had been at time's kiss. And it had given him to death. Taken him away from her. Still, even with the new man in their house, Jake was still there in photographs, old movies, and in their hearts.

Clarke padded down the stairs in bare feet and searched around the living room for her phone. She had always left it downstairs in a whim of being so tired and forgetting about it. She regretted her carelessness at that moment as the siren wails didn't seem to let up.

Clarke grabbed the couch pillows, throwing them off in haste, and when she found nothing, she grabbed the cushions and lifted them up as well. She discarded them on the floor, and reached her hand into the creases of the couch and felt around. When she was about to give up and look somewhere else, she felt the cool plastic of her phone case, and sighed in relief as she yanked it out.

When she clicked the home button, her screen lit up and she was greeted with too many texts to count. Clarke's mouth went dry. She unlocked her phone and went to the most recent.

 **Octavius Blakemus**

 **7:08am**

 _ **You remember that disease you me and Raven were**_

 _ **Joking about? It's fucking real.**_

 _ **7:09am**_

 _ **It was all over the news an hour ago. None of the tv's**_

 _ **Are working now.**_

 _ **7:10am**_

 _ **Please tell me you're okay, Clarke!**_

Clarke stared down at her phone in disbelief. If it weren't for the sirens she'd shake her head and laugh then go back to bed. But she had a feeling Octavia seriously wasn't bullshitting her this time.

 **Clarkus Griffster**

 **7:21am**

 **I'm okay, O.**

Clarke then opened Raven's texts which seemed to explode. Everything with Raven exploded.

 **Ravenclaw Reyes**

 **6:40am**

 **Clarke! That fucking disease wasn't bullshit!**

 **6:40am**

 **This dude fucking ate a reporter's face on live**

 **Television! This is fucking insane!**

 **6:48am**

 **All channels have gone off air. What the fuck.**

 **6:51am**

 **Clarke please text back!**

 **6:56am**

 **Your mom still isn't back yet! Fuck!**

 **You're there alone! My mom won't**

 **Let me go to you!**

 **6:59am**

 **You better be okay or I'll fucking kill**

 **You, Griffin.**

 **Clarkey Griffindor**

 **7:22am**

 **I'm okay, Rave. My mom isn't**

 **Supposed to be back for three more**

 **Days. I'm coming to you.**

Clarke's hands began to shake. She truly didn't know what to do. Was she just supposed to hunker down and wait for Abby and Marcus to come home and let them take control? What if they didn't come home? Clarke opened some more texts from Wells, Bellamy, Jasper, Monty, Roan, and Harper. She let them all know that she was okay, then she anxiously opened the texts from her mother. The earliest ones.

 **Abby**

 **4:32am**

 **Clarke, something bad has happened.**

 **The disease that was proven to only**

 **Be a flu is far worse than that. It looks**

 **Like a zombie horror movie here. You**

 **Need to go to the town's public evac**

 **Shelter.**

 **4:32am**

 **I love you, Clarke. I'm trying to get**

 **Back to you. Everything will be okay.**

 **You are strong.**

When Clarke tried to send a text back, a red exclamation beside her text told her the cell service had gone, and she felt her heart boil and drop to the ravine of her stomach. Clarke then tried to text Raven or Octavia but the same red exclamation came up. Hot, salty tears began to brim over her eyelids, and she threw the phone in frustration. How could Abby leave her alone? How could she make her endure this all alone? Truly, she didn't know something like this would happen. It simply wasn't her fault and Clarke hated that she couldn't blame anyone for this.

Exhausted and drained, Clarke ran up the stairs as fast as she could and slammed her bedroom door behind her. She dug the palms of her hands into her eyes and willed herself to get a grip. Maybe it wasn't really as big of a deal as everyone has made it out to be. Maybe it's just a measly disease that had made everyone go a bit crazy like those drugs some people took that made them want to eat skin. It could be anything.

Clarke changed out of her pajamas and into a black shirt with her dark blue jacket. She tied her hair up in a bun and began to throw some stuff she knew she'd need into her bag. Going off of the zombie movies she would binge watch with her father all of those years ago, she made a list in her head and began to shove medicines, and foods, and some of Marcus's tools, and blankets and spare clothes into her bag. She was far from done when she stopped in her tracks at the noise she heard coming from the front door. Someone was messing with the doorknob. Clarke ran up the stairs into Abby and Marcus's room and put in the code of the large safe, where she pulled out the pistol they kept there, along with tons of bullets. She placed the bullet packages in her bag, zipped it shut, and loaded the gun before making her way to the top of the stairs, raising the gun with shaky hands and aimed just beyond the door, ready as she's ever been.

When the door finally popped open, Clarke's heart was nearly on it's way to beating itself right out of her chest. A young woman with an even bigger backpack than Clarke's stepped into the threshold and glanced up at the blonde. Clarke was relieved and annoyed all at once at the sight of the girl standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Lexa Woods was her neighbor. Her neighbor she's hated since Lexa threw dirt at her when she was playing outside when they were six. High school didn't make things much better. Lexa came out as a lesbian, and Clarke was out as bisexual. And Clarke hated Lexa even more solely because she had the largest crush on Lexa and couldn't do anything about it. Lexa hated her for some god unknown reason. Yet there she was in her own home, looking up at her expectantly. The sirens from outside grew louder since the door was opened. Lexa shook herself out of her Clarke induced reverie and pushed the door shut.

"What are you doing here?" Clarke said bitterly. "Why did you pick my lock?"

Lexa lifted a hand to her head and scratched it as if Clarke had just asked her to solve a hard calculus question to determine someone's life expectancy.

"I, uh, I knew your mom was away. I'm alone too," Lexa shrugged sheepishly.

"So you're stalking me?"

"What? No! I just realized, I mean your mom's car hasn't been in the driveway for weeks and-"

"I know. I was fucking with you," Clarke winked and trudged down the steps, until she was directly in front of Lexa, mere inches in fact. Lexa's breath hitched and Clarke arched a brow in confusion. Lexa took a step back and lifted her thumb to her mouth where she greedily chewed the nail.

"My mom texted me saying I need to go to the evac shelter. But I need to see Raven and Octavia first."

Lexa nodded her head reluctantly at the mention to the other two girls. They were so loud and annoying. Clarke seemed to be the only normal one out of the three of them. Though all three of them were pretty, Clarke outshined the other two in Lexa's eyes. Clarke had hair of hay fields and eyes of cornflowers, and it always made Lexa feel so at a loss for words and made her emotions swirl and she felt so overwhelmed. She had no way of expressing how she felt to Clarke without looking like a complete idiot, so she chose to stay at a distance, and at times if it was needed, to be mean. It broke her heart every time.

"You don't have to come," Clarke shrugged. "It's not like I need you or you need me."

"I'll go," Lexa said way too fast.

Clarke smirked at her and Lexa rolled her eyes.

"I have nowhere else to be."

Clarke wanted to ask where her parents were and why she had nowhere else to go, but she held herself back knowing Lexa most likely wouldn't tell her anyway. Clarke led them out the door, gave a last glance to the inside of her house and slowly closed the door.

/

The Reyes household was loud and rambunctious even at what seemed to be the end of the world. Lexa enjoyed the drive there, though. The roads near the city were filled with people running, screaming, dying. And her and Clarke's neighborhood was starting to look the same by the time they left. But once they turned into a dirt road and began driving into the countryside, it became quiet again. The siren had long since stopped, and the air was filled with a smokey, ashy smell that would be overwhelming if the fresh air didn't over power it. Clarke had put their bags in the backseat of her car, instructed Lexa to not put her feet up on the dashboard once she was in the passenger seat (Lexa wasn't going to anyway) and started to pull out of the driveway. Away from the normality of their lives. Lexa had rolled the window down and let the warm morning breeze hit her face softly. She looked longingly at the fields they had passed along the way and wished she could run through them again. Clarke saw the longing in Lexa's green eyes and she wanted to ask her about it, but stopped herself once again. She had to remind herself Lexa was only with her because she had nowhere and no one else to run to. She was just there so Lexa didn't have to be alone. The thought made Clarke's heart ache. She drove on.

Yes. the house was loud. Mostly because Raven lived there, but Octavia had been there too when Clarke and Lexa arrived, much to Clarke's relief. Despite the pitch, the house was neat and clean. Lexa hated to know that it would soon be destroyed by the new world they were forced into.

And despite Lexa's utmost expectations of the girls cringing once they had seen Clarke brought her along, they were actually extremely nice to her. They made it seem like they were glad she was there. Lexa shook at the unwanted feeling worming its way into her gut and closed herself off even more.

Raven's mother was one of those mothers that had a mixture of best friend and authority. The mother with so much to give and enjoyed giving it. She cooked before the electricity went out, and they all ate a supper big enough to feed a small army. Raven's family consisted of just her and her mother, but really, Clarke and Octavia acted as though they lived there too. Lexa almost felt jealous that these girls were so close. She herself had never felt that way with anyone. But then when she looked at Clarke, looking at her two best friends with adoration and ease, Lexa softened. She was glad Clarke had something like that.

/

Later that night, the girls were holed up in Raven's room while Raven's mother kept watch on the porch, with a large shotgun and her cat, Maximus on her lap. Lexa sat farthest away from the three girls, closest to the window as they all talked about the disease. Lexa laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, only feeling the slightest comfort in the dark, and listened on.

"Where do we go from here? It's not like we have that much protection from whatever the hell is out there," Raven sighed.

"Not only do we have to be careful with the disease, we have to be careful with other survivors. They have strategy and motive," Octavia said. "We need weapons. We need to be ready."

Lexa had heard the rumors around school about Octavia Blake's homelife. How her father was abusive, but went to prison for robbery and died two years after being sentenced. How her mother was a meth head that only ever left the house to get her drugs. Lexa knew Octavia had put on a front. She was the star athlete, one of the most popular girls in school. But she was never a bitch. Lexa liked that about her. She knew Octavia probably lived here more than at her own home. Her older brother, Bellamy was away at college and Octavia had gotten herself self defense lessons, and gotten into taekwondo to fight off any of the angry men coming around her apartment to try to kill her mother over drug money. Octavia knew everyone knew about her life, yet acted like it wasn't true. Everyone else played along.

"I have my gun, Lexa has her machete," Clarke said in a husky tied voice. Lexa shivered at her name being said in that voice and tried to tell herself that emotions are weakness. It was all she had ever known.

"We can rack up some more somehow."

"We'll figure it out," Octavia concluded.

"We should sleep. I think this could be our last night of full rest for god knows how long," Raven said and shuffled around in her blanket.

None of the girls had used the bed because it was too small and they all wanted to feel closer to one another. All except for Lexa.

"Goodnight," all three girls said at the same time.

"Goodnight, Lexa," Octavia whispered.

Lexa was thinking about not answering and pretending she was asleep but she couldn't find it in her to do so.

"Goodnight," she whispered back weakly.

When she turned her head, she could see the stars from her place by the window and she felt herself slowly start to drift in a long awaited slumber. A slumber she couldn't fight off even if she had wanted to. With Raven's light snores in the background of her mind, she let herself surrender to sleep for once in weeks.

The sleep Lexa let herself fall into betrayed her later into the night and she woke up shaking from the previous nightmare still fresh in her mind. She was covered in sweat and she felt too exposed under the moonlight, in the large expanse of Raven Reyes' bedroom. Lexa stood up on jelly legs, and struggled to not step on anyone as she made her way to the door. She stepped on a rough patch in the carpet and the floor creaked. Lexa winced and halted to a stop, waiting and listening for any movements from the girls. Raven's snores were the only thing coming back to her. Lexa shook her head. They would really have to learn to be more alert and wake up to noises like that. The world wasn't like how it used to be a month ago.

Lexa opened the door, and quietly snuck out of the stifling room and into the hallway which seemed much cooler. Lexa remembered seeing a closet filled with boxes earlier when she had made her way to the bathroom. It looked like the closet Lexa had sat in all of those nights when she was hiding from her nightmares. Hiding from the drunk people her uncle always invited over and had parties with. Lexa silently squeezed herself into the small space, and settled herself behind the boxes where no doubt, she couldn't be seen. She clasped her hands over her legs and pushed her knees against her chest, willing herself to breathe evenly. She blew on the sticky sweat settling against her skin and sighed. She was 18 years old and she was still sitting in closets when she was terrified. Not like that would be an option anymore soon enough.

The closet door clicked open silently and Lexa tensed up, ready to fight if she had to. But what she didn't prepare for was Clarke's soft whisper, and reassurance. Clarke closed the door behind herself and tucked herself close into Lexa's side, invading her space without a care in the world.

"I heard you fitting in your sleep," Clarke whispered against Lexa's neck. "What were you dreaming of?"

Lexa gulped and exhaled what she hoped was her fear of opening up. But those stone walls around her heart were still as sturdy as ever.

"I can't remember," Lexa lied.

"Is that why you're in here?"

"Why are you in here? How did you know this is where I went?"

"This is where I go when I think about my dad," Clarke admitted. "If it hurts too much, I usually come to Raven's just to sit in here and get myself together. This always was the perfect place to be in times like that."

"What happened to him?" Lexa asked without thinking. It was Clarke's turn to exhale.

"He died. Cancer."

"Clarke, I didn't-"

"Yeah, I know." Any previous malice Clarke held for Lexa seemed to drip away into the carpet of this closet. She didn't know why she felt so calm talking to her about this. Maybe it's because Lexa was so close to home without actually being truly apart of it. Maybe it's because Lexa had always made her feel strange things she could never put a name to.

"It was five years ago. But it still feels like yesterday sometimes."

"I bet you miss him," Lexa whispered.

"Very much. Every day."

Lexa felt something in her chest crack. The walls were becoming less reliable.

"My parents died in a car crash with my older brother and sister," Lexa said softly. She felt Clarke wrap an arm around her and instead of flinching or pulling away, she leaned into the touch.

"I was at home with a babysitter because I was too little to see this movie they all wanted to see. I was five. That was what I was dreaming about."

Lexa suddenly felt exhausted from the small amount of information she spilled out to Clarke. And maybe Clarke senses it because she didn't say anything and Lexa was grateful for that. Clarke felt at ease with the brunette in her arms and tried not to break the moment with a wrong word or pity line. She just held onto her until they both eventually fell asleep in what would usually be the worst position ever, but neither girl had slept better until then.

/

Gunshots. There were too many gunshots for it to be another nightmare. And there was yelling. Screaming. Things being thrown to the floor. Things or people. Lexa shook awake and instantly reached to grab Clarke's hand, hoping she was still there with her. When she felt the blonde's warm hand slide into her own, her heart thudded only a little less frantically. They both sat there in the closet at the end of the hall, behind tall stacks of boxes, settled in fear.

There was another gunshot and a frantic aven yelling, "Mom!" And the ordeal went on in slow minutes that stretched on into hours. When it was silent, Clarke began to stand up, but Lexa forced her back down. Clarke was about to complain when they heard pairs of footsteps come up the stairs. Men's' voices filled the previous expanse of silence and Clarke felt the bile rise in her throat. She looked at Lexa in panic, but Lexa remained stoic, and raised a finger to her lips.

When the footsteps got closer, Clarke gripped Lexa's hand harder, she was worried she'd break bones. But as a hand settled on the doorknob, another shot rang out and the man outside the door cursed to himself.

"Those little bitches!" He yelled as he zoomed down the stairs with another two sets of footsteps.

Lexa stood up fast, and pulled Clarke with her.

"We need to get out of here," Lexa whispered. "And we need to hurry."

Lexa opened the door slowly and when she saw emptiness in the hall, she pulled Clarke out and made a run for the bathroom.

"But Lexa, our stuff!"

"Forget it we need to go!", Lexa whispered harshly.

Clarke gave her a stubborn glare and ran back into Raven's room where she saw Octavia's and Raven's stuff had gone. They had hopefully made it out of that mess. Her heart began to break. She shoved it away and picked up her and Lexa's heavy bags before turning around to see a man in the doorway. He was dressed in ripped clothing and blood spatter had littered his unshaven face. The apocalypse had just begun and people were already starting to look like hoodlums.

"Hey there, pretty girl," He said in a thick southern accent. "Looks like you and me get to have a good time, huh?" The man made to step into the room but then thin yet muscular arms were around his neck choking him. He was kicked on the back of his knees so he fell over. He clawed at the arms around his neck and aimed for to claw at the face of his killer as well, but couldn't make it. His face fell and he slowly stopped struggling as his eyes lost their sight right on Clarke.

Clarke looked up at Lexa, stunned. She had just killed a person. A person that surely would've raped and killed her.

Lexa ran over to Clarke, grabbed her hand and forced her out of the room and into the bathroom. Lexa had already opened the window before going to check on Clarke. Lexa threw their stuff out of it, and it landed on the ground with a dull thump.

"You just-" Clarke stuttered.

"Survival is the key to life now, Clarke. Let's hope you're ready for it." Clarke stared into Lexa's eyes and an odd feeling of safety settled in her tummy.

Lexa gestured to the windowsill, letting Clarke go first. Knowing there was no time to waste, Clarke scrambled out of it and took a hard landing on the ground, wincing at the pain spreading through every inch of her body. Then, Lexa was beside her, grabbing her and holding her up. Clarke slung her backpack weakly over her shoulder and let Lexa hold her hand as they began to run towards the fields.

"But Raven, and Octavia," Clarke tried to object, but kept running despite it.

"Will survive," Lexa reassured.

Clarke didn't say anything else. Both girls ran until their lungs were begging for a rest. Once they were far enough away, they collapsed in the field near a bunch of trees and panted out their exhaustion. Clarke felt the world as she knew was completely gone. Lexa felt the new world was just beginning. As she looked at Clarke, she couldn't be happier to be stuck in it with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Bursting with Candles

The wilderness outside of the small town they lived in was large. Completely large enough to be its own country maybe. And Clarke and Lexa were trekking it. They found other people along the way but all they tended to do was try to steal their stuff and Lexa didn't take too kindly to that. When she threatened to cut off a man's head, Clarke drug her away before it could be anything more than a slice to the kneecap and achilles.

They still hadn't come across any of the dead, but they didn't necessarily plan to, either. The vast pieces of land surrounding them almost made Clarke feel as if she had some sort of forcefield around her. She knew anything could get her. Get them. But it brought some sort of unknown ease to her to be hiding in the multiple spines of trees. To be shrouded in constant brown and greenery.

Lexa on the other hand was constantly alert. Lexa always took first watch when nighttime fell and they were too exhausted to keep going. Clarke would build a fire (she learned it in girl scouts) and Lexa would set blankets down on the ground even the hot sticky air was enough to warm them, they could definitely use not sleeping directly on twigs, dirt and bugs. Sometimes Lexa would let Clarke sleep the whole night through, which in turn made Clarke upset but Lexa was stubborn and refused to not let Clarke get the sleep she needed.

The woods were comforting, yes. But they weren't comfortable. They didn't give the same security as a house did. It didn't have four walls and a roof. Everything was open. And death was living on its tiptoes right around them in the threatening dark. Still, they were strong. As strong as they could be at least.

They had been lucky and found an abandoned cave to stay in during the night when Clarke finally talked to her without an argument preparing to announce itself. That made Lexa feel lighter since all they seemed to do was bicker and fight over things.

"Do you think it's all settled down in tow?" Clarke asked. "Maybe they got it all under control before everyone could fall sick."

Lexa bit her cheek and stared into the low fire they had made.

"I don't know. Everyone we've met since coming here has seemed to tell us that things have gotten worse. But I don't know."

"We should go back and see."

"Clarke, it's dangerous."

"But what if we're hiding for no reason? What if everything is okay?" Clarke said with all of the hope she had seeping into her voice. It made Lexa's heart ache.

"Is that what you want to do? Go back to town?" Lexa asked and tossed another stick into the fire.

Clarke nodded. "Yes. I want to know. Maybe Octavia and Raven are there."

Lexa knew it was likely that they weren't. The two girls were smart. They probably fled to the woods just like Clarke and Lexa. But the hope Clarke emitted made Lexa feel something other than loss and despair. She felt, looking into those soft blue eyes, that she would do anything for Clarke if she asked. It scared her. She had never been that way with anyone. It wasn't smart, and it was reckless, but her heart was softening, and with Clarke she just couldn't help it.

So they were back in town three days after that night. And it was absolutely crawling with dead, ill people with cravings for flesh and human meat. Intestines, juices, blood, livers, lungs, stomachs, hearts, anything in a human body. Clarke threw up five times. Lexa held her. The dead were hungry, but they were slow enough to run away from. There were herds of them, and then there were some that walked alone. There was a couple of men with their hands tied to each other so they would be together when they turned. The look of it made Lexa want to cry. She never cried. Not even when her parents died. She felt for those two men. She felt for all of these dead living people. And it hurt. Feelings hurt.

There was no sight of Octavia and Raven, to Clarke's disappointment. There wasn't really sight of anyone. When they went into the town's supermarket, they had to sneak in the back way since there were too many dead living near the entrance.

"You have to be ready to kill if need be," Lexa whispered to Clarke. "I don't know how this thing spreads, but I'm guessing it's with a bite. You can't get bitten, okay?"

Clarke nodded.

When they went in, there was still tons of food left. There were too many people scared to have gone in, possibly. But they had to. Their stomachs were shrinking and they were growing frail. It was one of Lexa's worst nightmares; bad health. Especially bad health for Clarke.

They had to be sneaky, otherwise they could draw attention to themselves, and they could get cornered by the dead. They had to be quiet, and stealthy and sure. And it was hard when all the lights were out and they hadn't had any flashlights.

Lexa killed about ten of the dead whilst in that store, and Clarke killed none. She was shaking by the time they made their way back out into the blinding sunlight. Although she didn't succeed with killing anything, she did manage to get a ton of supplies that would last them for awhile. Lexa got things too, but wanted to surprise Clarke with them when she could.

They had made their way to Raven's home to check if anyone was holding refuge there. But they were only met with the men that had tried to take over, leading to their flee. They were infected. And they filled Lexa with rage. She killed them all and coated herself in their blood. It glistened off of her dirty skin in the sunlight. Clarke stood by watching numbly. She did feel every single bone cracking hit right in her heart.

Severing the brain killed them. Just like in every movie they had seen. Hollywood had its true deal with future seeking. And maybe the best form of training they had ever gotten. But none of it seemed to matter. They weren't in some movie that people watched on Halloween, popping popcorn into their mouths and kissing when the end credits rolled over the screen. It was real life. It would be there forever. The world as they knew it was gone.

When they were back in the woods, they were quiet. They were too exhausted to care, and extremely mentally drained from the day's discoveries. The hope that Clarke had previously felt was gone and Lexa was back to feeling stone make up the entirety of her interior.

They stayed like that for days. Silence surrounding them like a bunch of mosquitos. Those, too were an issue. Those things probably carried the disease too. They took every chance they could to kill them.

They made it back to the cave they once inhabited, and relief sunk Clarke's chest. She felt safer in between those walls. Lexa seemed to as well. She finally slept when Clarke asked her to. And when she slept, she had nightmares loud enough to alert every living dead in the world. So Clarke would slide over to her, lay down behind Lexa, press her front against Lexa's back and wrap her arms around her whilst shushing her and soothing her. Telling her that it was all going to be okay. They never spoke about it. And Lexa was thankful.

They found a clearing near the other side of the cave and they both erupted in emotional goosebumps. Their skin was crying at the relief of bathing. Lexa turned around as Clarke stripped out of clothes and ran directly into the water. She let out a gasp at the cold water but closed her eyes in bliss at the wonderful feeling of being enveloped in water.

Clarke turned and faced the mountains near the other side of the lake as Lexa stripped. It was a beautiful view and Clarke sighed contentedly when she felt Lexa swim next to her.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Clarke asked.

"Yes, very," Lexa replied. Though her eyes never left Clarke.

When it first rained, they stood in it for awhile to admire the feel of drops splatting against their tongues. It reminded Clarke of the time when she was little, standing outside her house in her yellow raincoat and rubber crocodile boots, head tilted up and tongue stuck out as the rain descended from the sky. She remembered seeing Lexa sitting on her porch in a raggedy black wool sweater and sneakers, watching her. She remembered the happiness she felt with those green eyes on her. She remembered a happy time. A time she could never get back. But this time, Lexa was out there with her, head tilted, tongue out and green eyes still focused right on her.

It was inevitable to stand in the rain for a long period of time and get sick right after. Clarke knew that and at the time, she didn't care. While Lexa had only a mere stuffy nose, Clarke had a clogged, runny nose, a deathly cough and a thousand migraines all lined up to make her feel like her head would explode.

Lexa took care of her in such a stoic way, yet Clarke felt so warm when Lexa rubbed her temples. She felt so light when Lexa patted her chest when the heavy burn from her cough took place. She felt safe in Lexa's arms at night when she cried over the mental pain. They never talked about it. And that time, Clarke was glad.

It was the night they ran out of food that Lexa became grumpy. She knew she was going to have to hunt, which was one of her least favorite things about survival. Her uncle Gustus had taught her how to do every single thing within the wild when she was only a young child. When he taught her how to skin a fish, she scrunched up her nose, but paid attention anyway. Somehow, with the way Gustus was so persistent in teaching her, she knew it was important. And she had been right.

Clarke only served to get on her nerves even more. And it wasn't the blonde's fault, really. Lexa was just annoyed, and hungry and tired and all she wanted was to be back in her bed back home at her uncle Gustus', sipping tea and watching history documentaries. The unsettling reminder that she would never be able to do that again only made her more irritated.

Lexa was taking her dry clothes off of the boulder when Clarke stepped out of the cave and covered the harsh glare of the sun with her hand. Lexa was more lethargic lately and Clarke could tell it was from their lack of food. She knew Lexa had training because she had seen all sorts of survival books on Lexa's desk when they were in grade school, and she would see Lexa leave with her uncle on weekends with camping gear, and they would come back and Lexa always had an ice cream cone in her hand, and a cooler full of fish or meat in her uncle's arms. Even Lexa's last name was Woods. Still, she knew Lexa was dreading it somehow, even if it was so easy to kill the infected.

"Lex!" Clarke called out. Lexa stilled. "I'm hungry. Can we please go hunt or something?"

Lexa stood up and glared down at the blonde.

"We? Are you kidding?" Lexa snorted. "Princess Clarke Griffin hunting for food? Why don't you just go back and sit in the cave since you can't even make yourself useful."

The words stung. Clarke felt a million wasp stings in her chest, but had no swelling or bumps to show it. Lexa didn't even look sorry which only hurt Clarke even more. But then the hurt was replaced with anger and spite. Clarke marched back into the cave, grabbed her gun, and then stomped back out and continued on into the forest without giving Lexa a single look. Lexa sighed and jogged into the cave where she grabbed her machete and then followed Clarke. She knew what she said was harsh, and probably not even true, but she was too hungry and annoyed to even care.

By the end of the day, they had actually gotten a rabbit. Well, to Lexa's dismay, Clarke had. And though Clarke was proud, she didn't give Lexa the satisfaction to show it. She grabbed the rabbit like the kill was nothing, turned back around and made way for their camp. Lexa ran behind to catch up with her.

"You, uh, you really showed me didn't you?" Lexa said sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck.

Clarke stayed silent and continued to walk, eyes looking straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"So you aren't going to talk to me now?"

Clarke suddenly stopped, and Lexa bumped into her. Clarke's lips were pursed and her eyes held an emotion Lexa had not seen in them yet. Infuriation.

"Go fuck yourself, Lexa," She spat and made her way to the cave. Lexa stood there and let all of the guilt in the world hit her at once. She really truly messed up, and she knew it. God, and she felt it. She waited until there was a bit of distance between them, then began to drag herself back to the cave where there was already a dim shadow of orange flapping against the stone walls.

Despite Clarke being angry at her companion, she didn't want her to starve. They both ate the same amount and with the filling in their tummies, they felt a little better and less cranky. Lexa didn't dare open her mouth and annoy Clarke, so she laid there, hands clasped on her tummy and stared at the ceiling of the cave. Cobwebs and some neighbors of bats blinked back at her, and she sighed. What in the hell had her life become? Looking over at the blonde, she then asked herself; What the hell had _their_ life become?

As the days went on, Clarke became less angry with Lexa, and Lexa began to talk more. They would talk about plans and their thoughts on what they would do if they needed to vacate their cave. They talked about the weather. They talked about things they already knew. They didn't talk about the things they truly wanted to.

But when Clarke said she was going to bathe in the lake, Lexa made it her goal to make the tent look as good as it could get before Clarke came back. Lexa rifled through her large bag, and felt the cool hardness of the candles against her fingertips. She had slid them into her bag when they had last been to town, and she hadn't forgotten about them. She vowed that she would use them at the right time, and this time seemed to be it. She spread all five of them out throughout the cave, and lit them with the tiny bik lighter she had also dropped into her bag while they were in the supermarket. She then laid out their largest blanket on the dusty ground, propped their bags on the top like they were pillows, and set the sketchpad and charcoal pieces in the middle of the blanket. Lexa stood there, hands on her hips, with a proud smirk on her face. But the more she looked around, the more it looked like a romantic set up. Her blood went cold and nearly left her pale. Before she could move to fix it, Clarke stepped into the cave. Damp blonde hair fell just beneath her covered breasts, and beads of leftover water ran down her neck.

Lexa's mouth went dry at the sight of her and her heart began to race. Why were her emotions coming out right then? Why couldn't she just hold them back and let Clarke enjoy her gift? Because she was truly sorry. Because she missed her. Because she really wanted to see Clarke smile again.

Clarke looked around at the sight before her, and she could feel tears well up in her eyes before she realized what was really gone. She didn't let those tears fall.

"Lexa, what-"

"I'm really sorry," Lexa blurted. She could feel her cheeks burning crimson.

"I'm sorry about what I said to you that day we first went hunting. I was just irritated and hungry and I was completely out of control with what I said. I meant none of it. I don't think of you as unhelpful. You are more than useful, Clarke. You're brave, and you never complain and you're the most optimistic despite our situation. You're beautiful and kind and you didn't deserve what I said, and I am just so sorry."

Clarke let Lexa ramble only because she, herself, was at a loss for words. Lexa didn't blink the entire time she spoke, she only looked into Clarke's widened eyes because she wanted the blonde to know she was sincere, and honest. Clarke broke out into a blinding grin and dove into Lexa's arms.

Lexa caught her in her arms and squeezed her softly. She inhaled the earthy flowery smell of Clarke's skin, and nuzzled her nose in the crook of Clarke's neck. The blonde rubbed soothing circles on Lexa's back and leaned back so she could look Lexa in the eye.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Clarke planted a light kiss on Lexa's cheek.

"You're forgiven," She whispered.

Then she was out of Lexa's arms and sitting on the blanket, flipping through the sketchpad and inhaling its bookish scent. Clarke patted the spot next to her, and Lexa eagerly joined. Clarke shook her head, and beamed at the pages.

"How did you know I drew?" Clarke asked.

Lexa's cheeks burned red once again.

"You were always outside coloring when we were little. Then when we got into highschool, you were the school's best unknown artist. You hung your art up in the halls and no one took it down because they liked it so much. You're so talented."

Clarke looked at Lexa closely, her heart coming out of her eyes.

"How did you know it was me?"

Lexa looked down at her hands fumbling in her lap and smiled at the memory coming to her.

"I knew because the style of the drawings was very similar to the homemade birthday card you slipped under my door when we were eight. You had drawn us holding hands, asking to be friends and for me to come to your party. It just came to me when I saw the artwork up in the hall. I knew it was you. You still drew hands so perfectly."

Clarke was in awe. She remembered sitting up late at night on her 8th birthday, knees drawn up to her chest, crying silent tears as Wells, Octavia, Raven, Bellamy, Murphy, Jasper, Monty, and Roan slept around her on their living room floor. She was upset Lexa hadn't shown up. She always thought Lexa had just crumpled up the card and threw it in the trash, and continued to ignore her. She felt Lexa had hated her, and a huge part of her hated Lexa after that too.

"Why didn't you come to the party?" Clarke whispered.

Lexa looked into Clarke's baby blue eyes and picked at the loose thread of her jeans.

"I knew you'd have all of your friends there. I didn't think they liked me. I was always really quiet and people picked on me for it. I was never much for social events. I did get you a balloon and when I tried to walk up to your porch the next day to give it to you, the rose thorns on the bushes popped it and uncle Gus wouldn't get me another. I guess I was just too shy to talk to you."

Clarke grabbed Lexa's hand, and Lexa tensed up.

"I thought you hated me," Clarke chuckled.

"I thought you hated me!" Lexa laughed.

"Looks like neither of us hate each other."

"That seems to be so."

The air was thicker then as the two got lost in each other's eyes. Lexa wanted to tell Clarke she still had that card with her. So she did, and Clarke nearly teared up as Lexa pulled out a dusty, folded piece of yellow paper that had Clarke's 8 year old handwriting in red crayon in it. Then the drawing of the two of the holding hands on the front.

Clarke stared at the aged piece of paper for a long time, and leaned in to give Lexa a kiss on the cheek once more. Lexa spent that night touching the spot Clarke's lips had been planted on her skin twice.

When Lexa finally fell asleep, Clarke began her first work of art in a very long time. She looked at her watch and thought of her dad. He would've been happy she got stuck with Lexa.

She shaded Lexa's face in the firelight and focused hard on the dip of her pouty lips, and her heavy eyelashes casting shadows along her cheeks. The sharpness of her jaw. The long fingers under the side of her head. The curve of her neck. Clarke drew her until the sun began to rise in a warm orange hello.

Lexa slept through the entire night without a single trace of nightmare.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Fear is a Place to Live

Blood coated the curtains, the wardrobe, the carpet, the bed sheets. It was an old crusty dark red color and if it were fresh, it would have had a metal kind of smell. Clarke opened up the wardrobe and wiped the blood on her jeans. Some shirts hung up and a set of black jeans sat folded neatly on the bottom. They looked too small to fit her, but she knew they would fit Lexa. She took them all.

The room still had traces of a normal teenager. Aside from the blood and the decaying body on the bed, it looked as if nothing had happened. Posters hung on the wall and loads of makeup piled up on the dresser along with fat textbooks and magazines with dumb quizzes that answer your question of _is he really that into you?_ Clarke shook her head.

It had been approximately four to five months since the outbreak. Four to five months since she'd seen her mother. Months since she heard Octavia and Raven's comforting voices. Days beyond days of being around no one but Lexa. It was slowly killing her. Not in the ways it had before. The times have changed and so has her entire outlook on her companion. She was extremely attracted to Lexa and couldn't help but rubbing her legs together whenever Lexa lifted a heavy item, or drooling over the brunette's green eyes and plump lips in her sleep. Their dynamic had definitely changed in a good way. And that was the reason why Clarke didn't want to act upon her desires for the other girl. She didn't want to wreck things with the person she was spending the end of the world with.

Lexa was ransacking cupboards when she heard a thump from upstairs. She zoomed up the stairs in a matter of mere seconds and ran into the room she heard the noise from. Clarke stood staring at her apologetically as a large box television sat shattered on the carpet. Little glass shards coated the floor and Lexa shook her head at the blonde. Clarke shrugged and walked past Lexa, brushing her shoulder as she went.

The house was just another they had looted. Just another old place abandoned to rot in the earth's decay. It had an old volkswagon in the garage that had its keys in the ignition but wouldn't start. They had previously travelled back to Raven's old house to try to get Clarke's car to work but someone had stolen the battery. They were testing their luck every day, but they figured that's just how life was going to be from then on.

Lexa had killed too many infected to count. Clarke had killed as much as she could before vomiting her stomach out. They had been on the road for months since their little camp at the cave was overrun by a humungous herd of dead. They got their stuff, or what they could get, and they ran until their legs gave out and their lungs were sure to combust. They were getting used to the world's harsh ways and still had not come in contact with another living person. That thought scared both of them the most.

When Lexa trudged back down the stairs, Clarke followed her and sighed heavily at the expanse of the house that was nearly already ransacked.

"I found you clothes," the blonde said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm."

"There wasn't any for you?" Lexa asked and closed the door of the pantry.

"None my size."

Lexa stood up straight and glanced over Clarke's body. The supple curves sticking through her old dirty clothing. The curve and weight of her breasts leaving the cleavage to pop out gorgeously. Her hips jutting out only to lead into slender thighs. Lexa raked her eyes shamelessly over the blonde and felt her mouth go dry. Clarke blushed at Lexa's obviously ogling and lifted a hand to rub nervously at the back of her neck.

Lexa snapped out of her stupor and locked eyes with Clarke. The blonde's big blue orbs were so inviting, Lexa wouldn't mind staring into them forever. In fact, she preferred to.

"Well, we'll have to look around more for your size," Lexa rasped. The sound of her own voice surprised her and made her turn away as her cheeks turned crimson.

A dull thump sounded throughout the house, and the two women stopped. Their breathing even stopped trying to listen for another sound. After ongoing minutes, they heard a low groan from the basement. Lexa glanced to Clarke, and Clarke nodded to her, placing her hand over the cool armor of her gun.

Lexa took out her machete and her own gun she had looted off one of the dead a month or two ago, and led the way down a messy hallway filled with old trash, bloodstains, and old picture frames without the family pictures that would've occupied them previously. There was a door by the stairway with a padlock on it that had been busted open, and the door was open just a crack.

Clarke got out her flashlight as quietly as she could, and clicked it on. Lexa pushed the door all the way open, and it creaked and groaned in protest. Clarke pointed the stream of light into the dark abyss of the basement and scrunched her eyebrows at the illumination of concrete walls and small cob webs. Lexa slowly stepped inside, and began to walk down the creaky wooden stairs with Clarke in tow.

The immediate smell of death rushed to them and nearly knocked them over. They were used to the rotting smell of decay by then. But the overpowering gust over it was almost too much to bear. There was too much in one sniff, too much dead. And when Clarke took the last step into the room beside Lexa, she had to put her sleeve up to her nose and inhale hard to stop herself from vomiting. Her clothes weren't exactly the epitome of flowers and honey and perfume. But it was something.

Lexa took the flashlight from Clarke and flashed it towards the walls and both women gasped at what was there in the dull stream of light. Bodies, dead living bodies, nailed to the no longer stone walls. The wood was scratched as if by someone's nails and the bodies hung by their arms and legs, hammered into the walls like famous paintings in an art museum. One was on the dusty ground, reaching out for them with a boney hand, skin dripping off the stressed arm and onto the dirt ground. It groaned and thrashed its body in a turtle like speed. It was sick. It was wrong.

"What the hell is this?" Clarke finally breathed out, exasperated.

"Someone's sick holy grail," Lexa murmured and made her way to the lone body on the ground.

She stuck her machete through its skull and watched its ministrations halt. The groaning only served to grow louder from the rest of the dead on the walls as if watching their friend die on the ground pained them. As if they had feelings anymore. When the threat to potential danger dissipated, Lexa sheathed her machete and tucked her gun back in her jeans and took out her own flashlight.

"This is- This is just absolutely-"

"Fucked?" Lexa supplied for Clarke's loss for words.

"Yes. Fucked."

Clarke walked over to a woman with her hair falling to piles on the ground beneath her. The dead woman struggled against the wall, wanting to reach out and take a bite right out of Clarke's fresh skin. Clarke ran her hand along the decaying skin of the woman's collarbone and scooped the heart pendant resting there onto her fingertips. Lexa shone the light on it, and studied Clarke.

"You can take it if you want, you know?" Lexa whispered.

Clarke furrowed her eyebrow for a moment as if mulling it over in her mind. She closed her eyes and shook her head, letting the gold penant go.

"It's this woman's. It probably meant something to her when she was alive. I don't need it anyway." And with that, Clarke made her way over to the next dead on the wall.

Lexa looked at Clarke's wrist where her father's watch once remained. It had broke when they had to hide in the river from a group of scraggly men. Lexa had pulled Clarke out of the river, and the broken watch was floating downstream along with Clarke's heart. She knew how badly that had hurt Clarke. And in turn, it hurt her too. Lexa pulled her machete out once more, and plunged it into the paper thin skull and the others groaned louder. Clarke eyed her suspiciously and Lexa shrugged.

Lexa walked over to a small chest on the ground decorated with old children's ABC stickers and magic marker scribbles. Lexa bent down and lifted it open where a bunch of notes sat along with an old empty donut box that read "Raspberry Filled." She ran her finger over the folded pages and grabbed one out. Unfolding it, messy handwriting awaited her.

" _No sign of human characteristics, emotions or intelligence. The sex is the same."_

Lexa cringed at the writing and threw it back into the box, then pulled out another.

" _I have trapped them in the metal room to see if they could mate. After being bit, I finally got them into position. They had zero sexual desire whatsoever. They just wanted to eat. Eat eat eat. That's all these things do."_

Clarke bent down next to Lexa. "What's it say?"

"This dude was sick. Sex crazy. But I guess he was experimenting the infected. Tried to make them breed." Lexa handed the note over to Clarke and picked up a new one.

" _The bite has bubbled and I am growing weaker. It looks like a million large blisters on top of one another. They itch like a mother fucker. My mind is growing foggy, and I'm getting dizzy. My experiments shall be on hold until I can collect myself. Until then, I need to leave. Get help. God help me._ "

Lexa snicked and threw the note back into the box.

"Looks like there is no god, pal."

Clarke looked up from the note she read and nodded her agreeance. She threw the letter back into the box, and slammed it shut earning more desperate groans from the dead. Clarke reached over and took the machete from Lexa's hip and walked to the nearest pinned up infected.

"Clarke what are you doing?" The brunette asked.

Clarke sunk the blade into the skull of the infected and watched as it slumped, completely lifeless at last.

"I'm ridding them of this eternal torture. Who's to say they haven't been completely freed yet?" Clarke sighed and moved onto the next one. Lexa didn't stop her.

When Clarke killed every last infected body in that room, she made her way up the stairs without a look back. Lexa began to follow but then stopped in her tracks and flashed her light onto the woman they had first examined. Lexa walked up to the dead woman pinned to the wall and stared at the gold pendant. It glittered under the closeness of the light and Lexa's heart was set. She reached her hand around the back of the dead woman's neck and unclasped the necklace. It fell gracefully into her hand. Lexa squeezed it in her palm and dropped it into the breast pocket of her flannel.

"Lexa!" Clarke shrieked from upstairs. Lexa's blood instantly ran cold.

Lexa shot up the stairs and nearly ran into Clarke's stiff back once back at the top and into the sunlight filtering into the house through cracks of wooden boards and curtains. Lexa glanced ahead and saw the massive herd that made itself at home before them. Hungry mouths snapped in eagerness, for their meat. They filled in through the front door, the back door, some windows. They were everywhere.

Clarke turned around and looked at Lexa with wide, scared eyes. Lexa grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs and into the bedroom at the end of the hall. The bedroom with the king size bed and an even bigger dresser. Lexa grabbed the side of the dresser and motioned for Clarke to come help her push. Soon, the dresser and bed were pushed against the door, and two heaving chests were collapsed on the mattress. Clarke and Lexa stared into each other's eyes as they heard the infected throw themselves against the door.

"What are we going to do? We can't just wait it out," Clarke whispered.

"We'll stay here for the night. We'll climb out of the window tomorrow. There's too many out there right now."

Clarke nodded at Lexa's words and scooted her body closer to Lexa's. Lexa wrapped her arms around the blonde uncertainly, hoping she was okay with it. When Clarke huddled into her further, she got her answer and she felt her body relax.

They stayed like that well into the night. The groans and thuds against the door only let up when the moon swam freely in the sky. Lexa stared down at the blonde in her arms and felt her heart swell. She leaned down and kissed Clarke's cheek softly. Looking at the relaxed face her companion possessed, she couldn't feel bad for it.

The next morning, the jumped from the window and nearly broke their legs. They ran and rand and ran until they had gotten enough distance from the hell house. Clarke had woken up with the heart pendant around her neck and resting nicely just beneath her clavicle. When Lexa wouldn't meet her eye, she smiled and held the heart between her thumb and index finger. Lexa was going to be the one to kill her in the apocalypse. Just with how much she makes her heart race and how heavily she makes her blush. With how much love she was giving her. Could Clarke call it love?

They camped out in the open, in the belly of the woods surrounded by trees and dark. When Lexa sat close to Clarke and said she would take first watch whilst staring in the fire, Clarke wanted to argue. But the look on Lexa's face told her she should do otherwise.

When Clarke woke the next morning welcomed with the sun, and a thin hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on her back, she knew she could call it love.

Clarke sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, blinking at Lexa.

"I told you to wake me up after a few hours," Clarke grumbled.

Lexa shrugged. "You looked peaceful. Don't see that often. Beautiful. Well, I mean you're always beautiful. But god, when you're relaxed. I just love seeing you be able to not be consumed with fear for awhile. I don't know."

Clarke sat up beside her companion and scooted closer.

"Plus, you're kind of cranky when you're sleepy."

Before Lexa could even try to laugh at her own joke, dry yet soft lips were slowly massaging her own. Alarmed, Lexa sat shock still. When Clarke was about to pull away, Lexa placed her hands on both of her cheeks and pushed her lips harder against the blonde. They kissed in fervor as every single thing built up for one another in the past few months slowly spilled out of their mouths and into the dancing of their lips.

When they needed to breathe, they separated but didn't go far. Lexa rested her head against Clarke's and closed her eyes as they bliss washed over her entire body. Any sense of fatigue she was feeling before had long since gone.

"Thank you for the necklace," Clarke whispered and pecked Lexa quickly on the lips.

Lexa let out a breathy chuckle. "You're welcome."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - I Will Protect You

It had been three days since they kissed each other. And both were sitting, stewing in their own sexual desire for each other. They hadn't mentioned it, because really, they couldn't. They were surviving off of mere drops of water and crumbs of old granola bars. They couldn't find game to hunt, and they were becoming more lethargic within each passing day. Lexa had never felt so unhealthy before.

Clarke knew all about being unfit. She spent her evenings usually drinking her live to a shrunken apple core whilst at parties with her friends, or staying up at night watching Gilmore Girls and sleeping well into the afternoon. She would rather be ripped apart by the infected than run. But that wasn't true. She had been running for months. And the most mysterious and gorgeous girl she'd known since she was just a little girl was running beside her. And though sometimes her vision would go gray and fuzzy, Lexa always seemed to be in focus.

No, they hadn't spoken about the kiss, but they had both felt it on their lips since it happened. Tingling, and heavy on chapped, smooth skin. Lexa thought Clarke's breath had actually smelt good which was a shock considering the lack of hygiene the apocalypse offered. She smelled of vanilla peaches pickles in bloody jars. Just a dash of blood, just the smallest hint of copper. Then juicy, fruitful vanilla sighs and lips, lips lips.

Lexa had tripped over a twig whilst they walked along one of the many clear ground of the woods, and Clarke lifted an eyebrow at her. Lexa shrugged sheepishly and shook the blush from her cheeks and the thoughts from her mind. She was sure Clarke had to be thinking about it too. As always, Lexa was correct.

Clarke couldn't get the physical touch out of her mind. It sat in her frontal lobe taunting her to forget about the grumble of her stomach and desert on her tongue begging to be rained on with fresh water. Lexa's lips were soft even though they were chapped. They were like pebbles with soft snow and pizza dough laid over them with a warm honey drizzle. Such an odd and lovely mix. Clarke can recall kissing Finn Collins freshman year and his lips were chapped and dry like a muddy gravel road with food litter and roadkill liquids. It was unpleasant, but not entirely so. His tongue had been too rough and it reminded her of the porn she had watched with Raven and Octavia in her bedroom- the man going at the woman like a jackhammer. Only then, she had completely been disgusted and pulled away. No, Lexa's kiss was pure heaven to the one she had experienced with Finn. He was nice enough, and accepted her not ever speaking about it again.

But Clarke didn't want to not speak about her and Lexa's kiss ever again. She wanted to talk about in a sultry voice to show Lexa she wanted more. God, did she want more. She wanted to relive the kiss over and over again, deepen it, roam it farther. She wanted to roam her hands over Lexa's grimy yet smooth skin and feel her hips knock against hers and-

"Did you hear that?" Lexa asked and reached an arm out to stop Clarke from walking further. Clarke willed her hormones a rest and opened her mind to her ears.

"No?"

Lexa stared into the distance intensely, her arm still against Clarke's tummy.

"I heard a man's voice," Lexa whispered.

"Are you sure?"

Lexa waited a couple of minutes to listen before dropping her arm back to her side and continued to walk.

"I don't know, but we should be extra careful now. Be on the lookout and more alert," Lexa's tone wasn't barked in an order, but rather a comprehensive instruction. Clarke nodded.

They walked into an abandoned road thirty minutes later and Clarke felt uneasy. Lexa began to walk along it and stopped a little ways ahead once she realized Clarke hadn't been following her.

"What's wrong?" Lexa asked.

Clarke rubbed nervously at her arm. "I feel too exposed on the road."

"We need to get to the nearest town to see if we can find a trace of food. Look," Lexa pointed at a yellow sign with bullet holes decorating it. "Look, we're almost to Cedar City. We need to be careful, but we can do it. Come on."

"Christ, we've seriously come all the way from Richfield to Cedar City? How did we travel this far?" Clarke said and began to trek towards Lexa.

"It's been quite awhile," Lexa shrugged. "If we keep going past Cedar City after we check for food, we might end up in Nevada."

They began to walk side by side on the road past the sign and the trees.

"Maybe we can go to the beach once we hit California. We can avoid the large cities. There are some private beaches my older sister had been to before." Lexa mentioned.

Clarke smiled and breathed in the contaminated, yet fresh air. "I would love that. I'm getting sick of these damn mountains."

Lexa laughed. "Me too, believe me."

Town was overrun with the dead. The two young women had been in the sift change of the world for only months and they were used to it. They knew where to hide, where to avoid and what to go to. They passed a large Holiday Inn, and a small restaurant and a small diner called Hermies. That part had stradlers along the road, but herds were not present. The herds were reserved to downtown Cedar City where places like Dollar Tree and Great Clips stood scathed by death.

They hit some wonderful jackpot when they ran across a small untouched market on the side of the road by an old gas station. A man stood behind the desk, and Clarke nearly felt the shockwaves hit her body when she thought it was a real live person. She hadn't seen another person aside from Lexa in ages and it startled her. But upon the doorbell jingling when they entered the front door, the man had turned around and revealed yellowed, dead eyes and a dropped jaw, and Clarke felt herself relax.

Lexa's blade was in his skull before Clarke could blink, and she watched the body drop dead to the floor, hitting its head on the cash register with a sharp 'ping' on the way down. The black tray shot out and piles of money and change sat in their respective compartments. Lexa eyed it and sighed.

"No need for it now." And then the brunette was walking down an isle, examining the various types of junk food and sweets.

Clarke walked around the cubby of the desk and walked through the small gate trapping the now dead man behind the counter. Clarke knelt down beside the body and lifted the name tag off of the green apron. It read in simple handwriting, "Sam." Clarke let go of it and searched through the man's pockets. She found a lighter and slipped it into her bag. Then a set of nail clippers, a small joke book the size of a sticky note, and an old, worn leather wallet with fraying edges. Clarke flipped it open and stared at the photograph of the man with two children, a girl and boy with blonde hair, and a woman with kind eyes and a red flowy summer dress, and himself smiling at the camera. Clarke looked back down at the dead man's lifeless face, and her heart ached. To have died at work, and not have made it back to his family. She wondered if they were still alive. She wondered if her own mother and Marcus were still alive.

Clarke slipped the wallet back into his jeans pocket and bagged everything else with a harsh wheeze of breath, then stood up on shaky legs. She glanced back at the body before leaving the area.

"Rest easy, Sam," she murmured and walked away.

She met Lexa in the back where tall glass doors lined the walls. Lexa stood in front of the once refrigerated alcohol, and began to loot as many bottles as she could carry of hard liquor including some beers and ciders.

Clarke lifted an eyebrow at her, as she usually did, and Lexa rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"Oh, I have," the blonde folded her arms. "Just didn't think we'd need that many."

Lexa glanced from her bag, to Clarke, then back to her bag again and nodded sadly. She began to put all of the bottles back and stopped at Jim Beam whiskey and a large bottle of Grey Goose. Lexa looked up at Clarke, holding up the bottles, and Clarke nodded in approval. Lexa bagged them along with some Angry Orchard green apples, and left the rest of the alcohol for some other lucky bastards.

They had taken it easy on the sweets and had tried to focus more on the healthy stuff they could cook like the boxed mac and cheese and rice. Clarke bagged some roasted peanuts, pistachios, dark chocolate that was nearly melted, and every flavor and brand of granola bars the convenience store stocked. Lexa bagged some fruits that were still in baskets under the magazines and crosswords puzzles. Lexa grabbed a mini crossword puzzle too and threw it in with the apples. Lexa also found some old ragged blankets in the backroom. It was just their lucky day.

Clarke lifted a package of Twinkies up and grinned at the brunette. Lexa snorted and shook her head as she searched the isle for some ware and tare equipment.

"Remember that movie Zombieland?" Clarke asked and threw a few Twinkies into her heavy bag. "How Woody Allen just wanted to find his damn Twinkies? I think we beat him to it."

The blonde giggled and Lexa joined her. The mood was light after they had found the place and they were relieved their stomachs would be full, and they could hydrate themselves with oversized water bottles and dehydrate themselves later on in a secure place with some alcohol and sweets. They were happy for the first time, and maybe they both thought about kissing each other once again.

When they left the store, more dead had staggered onto the road, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle or avoid. They took out some of them whilst taking more back roads, and heading to the red velvet mountains where they figured they would camp for the night.

The sun began to wade its way through the milky, purple sky towards the mountains and the moon was beginning to rise in its happy hello. The air was muggy but it began to grow colder as they continued on until the town disappeared and the gurgles and groans from the infected had long since vanished.

Lexa and Clarke set up their camp on the dusty desert ground, and took out their flashlights to shine upon the food loot nestled into their bags. They feasted on Twinkies and packaged out of date apple pies that night, and drank their water in small, grateful sips. The moon bathed them in unashamed spotlight as they lay on their backs side by side on the old blankets, backpacks beneath their heads and full tummies.

Clarke glanced over at Lexa, and basked in her beauty. Her sharp jaw line that could cause much more damage than her machete, her fine, round cheekbones just beneath her sparkling green eyes, her pouty, kissable lips that had felt so good against her own. Clarke bit her lip to stifle an involuntary moan. She opted to talking about things she had wondered about Lexa instead.

"So you lived with your uncle, Gus," Clarke spoke in a gravelly voice.

Lexa nodded.

"When you came into my house that first day, you said you were alone too. Why? Where was he?"

Lexa visibly swallowed a thick wad of spit and words, and Clarke watched her throat bob.

"He was away at some girlfriend's. This one being the fifth one this year. But I usually stay out of his business. He would tell me he was going to so and so's for awhile and that he would be back. And sometimes he would stay away for months at a time. Whenever he was home, we sort of just… Co-existed."

"How long had he been gone before the sirens blared?" Clarke twisted a strand of Lexa's chestnut hair around her index finger.

"Two weeks or so. I figured he wouldn't come back. He knew I could survive. He was the one who taught me."

"So that's what you would be doing on the weekends? I thought it was just regular camping," Clarke said, confused.

Lexa turned her head away from the stars to instead look at the ones in Clarke's shadowed blue eyes. She was surprised Clarke had known they would go every week when she was little. Maybe little Clarke really had just wanted Lexa be to her friend. The thought made Lexa's heart hurt.

"He had a ton of apocalypse survival books in his study at home. He would let me read them, and they really truly were interesting and helpful. It wasn't just about zombies. It was about nuclear war, and disease that didn't just lead to dead walking. They were interesting. But yes, he would teach me how to survive in case something like this happened."

"It was a good call then," Clarke smirked.

"I suppose so," Lexa shrugged, not breaking eye contact with the beautiful blonde beside her.

Clarke's relaxed face then contorted into a serious one.

"Do you think he's still alive?"

Lexa exhaled and turned her head back up to the sky. "Probably. He wasn't a quitter. He made sure I wasn't, either."

"I'm glad I got stuck with you, Lexa," Clarke whispered.

When Lexa looked back at the blonde, she had her eyes closed without the tell tale signs of flutter or unease. She had fallen asleep just like that, cuddles into Lexa's side. Lexa gripped Clarke's hand in her own.

"Me too."

There were a lot of things Lexa least expected. One being Clarke showing up half naked in her dreams begging her to kiss her. Calling… her name. Calling her name. Calling her… name.

"Lexa… Lexa… Lexa!... Lexa!"

And she was awake, and tense and shocked and her body was violently shaking with adrenaline. Men. There were men. Two of them that she could count. One of them had Clarke. One was skinny and rustic. The other was bulky with only muscles could be mistaken for fat. One was holding her hands behind her back, pressing a gun into the back of her hand. One had Clarke. One. Had. Clarke.

Lexa thrashed against the person behind her holding her in place, despite the cool metal of the gun sticking to the sticky skin of her lower back from her shirt riding up. A light, cigarette stained voice chuckled from behind her and gripped her wrists painfully harder. Clarke had tears streaking down her cheeks, carrying remnants of dirt with them. Lexa's chest was rising and falling equivalent to the speed of a shooting star shooting through space, in heaps. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Beat beat. Beat beat. Beat beat. Her heart was hammering and she could feel it too sensitively.

The muscled man holding Clarke, tilted the blonde's chin up while gazing into Lexa's emerald forest fire eyes. He stuck his blackened tongue along the column of Clarke's neck and the blonde whimpered uncomfortably. Lexa thrashed once more, but the man holding her only pressed the fun harder into her back. How had she slept through the panic? Had she really been that tired? It wasn't impossible.

"You're fine pieces of meat," Muscle Man muttered against Clarke's skin. "Me and Roody here like meat. Some fine ass meat like the both of ya's."

Lexa inwardly cringed at the man's words. Meat. Women were always meat. Not this time.

Lexa knew she would be injured. There was no way of escaping this without it. Injured, or dead, she had to make sure Clarke got out of it alive. Lexa stood there and watched until the right time came along. Clarke's eyes begged her, and Lexa's eyes reassured her the best they could that she was going to do something. She wouldn't let Clarke get hurt.

When Muscle Man pushed Clarke harshly onto the ground onto her knees, he made her spread out on all fours, while ripping the threads of her clothes. When he exposed her bum, Lexa was nearly foaming at the mouth with anger. Control. She always had control. That's the one thing she would always have.

She felt the gun soften against her back, and pull away a little, as the skinny man behind her had taken one hand away from his grip on Lexa's wrists and started to undo his belt. Lexa felt something hard hit her hip and she willed herself not to vomit. Not when Clarke was about to be molested. It was time.

Without warning, Lexa thrust her head back as hard as she could and bashed the back of her skull hard against the man's nose, and was welcomed with a sickening crack. The gun went off, but Lexa didn't pay mind to it as she grabbed it from the ground where the man behind her had dropped it in favor of cupping his bleeding nose. Lexa blasted a shot through the forehead of the skinny man, and then turned to Muscle Man, pointed the gun, and grazed her finger over the trigger, only to halt at the fact he was using Clarke as a human shield, pressing a small blade to her neck.

Clarke's eyes were bloodshot and fatigued as she scraped at the man's stubby fingers gripping onto her collarbone.

"Either you take our lives, or you let me get off and all of us live. Your choice, smokin'," The man said and gripped Clarke tighter.

Lexa chuckled at his blank knowledge of her. Her uncle Gus had told her she was the best shot he'd ever seen. She was better than him at eight years old.

With moving the gun only a mere inch, Lexa said harshly, "That woman you got there is my life. I will not let you taint her, you blasted, bloody chode mother fucker."

Another shot had blasted and a bullet grazed just the side of his temple. He fell backward, and onto the ground, still conscious howling in pain. The knife he had against Clarke's neck only served to leave a small scratch in its fall.

Lexa picked up her machete from the blanket on the ground and pushed past Clarke, standing above the man who stared up at her and begged for mercy. She smiled happily, before swinging the machete down onto the man's face and splitting it open. She pulled it out and smashed into it again. Then again, and again, and again.

Clarke watched as Lexa drained her adrenaline on the man who nearly raped her, and her own blood was beginning to settle down. Lexa's arms flexed and glistened in sweat against the moon beams as she sliced the man's skull into a bloody, brainy sludge. Clarke walked over to Lexa slowly and reached out to touch her shoulder tentatively, causing Lexa's ministrations to slower and soften.

"That's enough, Lex. It's all over now," Clarke whispered in the brunette's ear. "Come on, honey. It's over. It's okay."

Clarke's soothing words and touches lowered her down from her adrenaline induced high, and she dropped the blood stained machete to the ground. She turned in Clarke's arms and swallowed her up into a tight hug that said everything she couldn't manage to say with her own words. Her tongue was fat in her mouth, and her throat was dry as she began to sob against the blonde.

The blonde stroked her hair and let out tears of her own. They drenched the fabric of Lexa's shirt, and Lexa's own hot salty tears ran down Clarke's goosebump covered shoulder blades. Her clothes were ripped and ravaged, and Lexa's worried tears were showering her in drops of warmth. The raw affection perspiring between them was a summer no season had ever seen.

The night was still and quiet after that. Not even the dead could utter a sound. A sticky, hot liquid stuck to Lexa's thigh and she glanced down to a pool of blood spreading over the fabric of her jeans. That was when the pain finally came.


End file.
